


Klyrion's Anthology of Friends

by Quaking_Rapture



Category: Quaking Rapture
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Angst, Drama queens, Fluff, Gen, Kidnapping, canon pairs later on, ciNNAMON BUNS, ill add more characters as I go, maybe violence later on?, totally original title i swear, uhhhh hint at underage shit, wow ok angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 02:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7295467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quaking_Rapture/pseuds/Quaking_Rapture
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Klyrion records the people she's met throughout her life and her relationship with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Patient Zero

It was dark, dark, dark in the cramped, cramped, cramped box and her limbs had long stopped aching. The thin appendages shifting from a terrible, pulsing ache to just a complete numbness. Drip, drip, drip went the water faucet in the background. She had long ago forgotten to pay it too much mind. 

Quite on the contrary when she was, for once, not alone with just her thoughts the constant pace conforted her. Moreover it helped give her a measure of time with its continuity. It reminded her that she wasn’t so totally cut off from the world that time no longer applied to her. Furthermore it served as an alarm clock, ringing occasionally to signal that she was allowed to sleep, cry, or stand at attention for her owner. 

He greatly disliked going through the motions of things he deemed unnecessary— shaking her awake was one of them, feeding her was the other. 

At 33,383 drips since her last visit Kly felt her internal clock blaze her to attention. Adjusting her weight placement she tried to imitate the perfect, lackluster poster of a doll. Straining her ears to hear past the muffled sound of the tv and local ice cream truck she tried to bring a little feeling back into her wrists and ankle. She bit her lip to muffle the whimpers as blood painfully rushed through her veins. 

No sound escaped her as couch springs whined in protest as the presence occupying it stood up. Old floorboards creaked as naked feet slapped past. 

Kly waited with baited breath as the door to the basement croaked open (she had immediately recognized the dull, cold atmosphere of the room when she tried to escape one faithful night. A scar decorated her ankle while a golden lock hung merrily from the door now). Hearing the cheery jingle of keys, she sucked in a short breath of old wood and rusted brass. She refused to breathe in his stale scent of cheap liquor and tobacco. The first time around her eyes had watered from the surfer ladened odor so much it took about a week for the bruise to finally fade. 

Greeting his grungy and sweaty face with a smile she let her eyes glaze over as her mind took her to a far away place. She took a moment to sadly say goodbye to her cute dress as he patiently lowered her stockings and unbuttoned her lace blouse. It was such a shame, she was beginning to like the pure chiffon color. 

1,089 drips later she felt her conscious waking her. However instead of waking up to a new petticoat and her box she found herself still beneath her owner, his puggy love handles still in between her thighs. Looking up she watched in shocked fascination as her owner grappled at his throat as if his air simply refused to enter his lungs. 

Blinking in bewilderment she watched silently as his red face slowly went flack. With his tongue lolling out the side of mouth— drool and spittle leaked down his chin. It took a moment for his muddy green eyes to r0ll into the back of his head.

A wheezy squeak left her throat as he collapsed on top of her. Whimpering as her frail limbs struggled with the dead weight adrenaline spiked through her bloodstream as she gazed up at the face that had tormented her for god knows how long. Leaning away from his leaking face she used all her strength and more to nudge him off her. Gravity gladly took him off her hands as his warm body collapsed onto the cold concrete.


	2. Caius Amacker & Riley Thorne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Caius & Riley rescue Klyrion from her demons.

She liked the nice police officer. The one who found her and determinedly carried her to the paramedics as his partner poked at her, now former, owner. Even after she was carried off by the blaring truck he was there sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair as she woke up aching in the big hospital bed. She was safe he said, no one could hurt her now he said. 

She made sure to apologize for wetting his shirt when her tears stopped rolling. She could almost forgive that little voice inside her that screamed for him to leave her alone, to not touch her with such affection. He couldn’t be trusted said the little voice. He was just pretending it said. Instead of abiding by it and shrieking for help she bit through her lower lip and smiled shakily even as bile rose up within her. 

He- Caius Amacker the nice police officer, made a habit of visiting her after the whole investigation fell through. Along with his partner Riley Thorne, he helped bring a bit of normality back into her life. Sometimes they would rise up to the roof to enjoy the seasons and sometimes they would stay indoors and tell her stories of their crime fighting adventures. Sometimes silence was in order and sometimes laughter prevailed. Sometimes signs of healing were evident and sometimes signs of decay were laid out for the world to see. She figured that the day she almost slit her own throat was one of decay. 

It all happened during a very good day one spring afternoon, even if it was raining outside and even if the hospital ran out of her favorite jello it was a good day. Except one moment she was telling a story, all her listeners watching avidly as she went through the motions, and then the next all her listeners were crying in panic as someone in the background screamed in hysteria. Blood was everywhere and it clung to her sensitive skin, lightly drying and staying as a sticky spotch on her hospital gown. What had happened? Did someone get a paper cut? Did someone pop their stitches? 

Did someone almost bring a scalpel to her neck and wring it?

It was safe to say that Kly spent a good deal of time in her own company with no sharp objects at hand. It was Caius who suggested- ordered- her to seek help, Riley was the one who waited for her after her therapy sessions with a cup of tea and small girl talk. She guessed it was unnerving for a ten year old to be so afraid and unaccustomed to the touch and gaze of her own friends. Was it ok for her to even call them that behind their backs? Surely they were just there to be polite right? Was it selfish of her to want friends?

Days later as she sat within the confines of Caius’s office with pastries and flowers in hand waiting for him to return from his most recent case Kly thought that no, it was not okay to call them her friends behind their backs. Instead of merely calling them that in her head she should’ve called them her friends with her whole heart because god knows that she needed somehow to engrave the letters “BFF” into Caius’s cheap, gold spray painted, but really plastic door plaque. 

And no, it wasn’t just them being polite because really she should know. Riley was anything but polite when she walked through Klyrion’s house, strutting like she lived here all her life. Anxiety ridden worries spilling past her lips as thoughts of Mason rushed through her head. 

Perking up to attention as the door to Caius’s office opened she smiled as the owner of said office quickly smiled at her and collapsed onto a nearby couch. Leaning forward she gently pushed the tray of pastries she had made with Riley and the espresso she had bought on her way over. As the smell of coffee and the sound of pen scratching against paper filled the small office room Kly decided that maybe, for once, it was okay to be a little selfish.


End file.
